Chuck vs the Big Apple
by JustanItalianwriter
Summary: "Chuck  must face a problem he thought already solved. To succes in his mission, he'll need the help of New York's finest crime writer: Richard Castle."  Sorry, I suck at summaries  Set after Chuck season 4 episode 4/ Castle season 3 episode 4
1. Chapter 1

I re-uploaded the chapter and I added some changes that were suggested by my beta reader, Lady Black-Malfoy, who I'd also like to thank: without her my story wouldn't be nearly as enjoyable as it is now

**Chapter I**

Burbank, California

It was not a nice day. The sky was cloudy and it looked like it was going to rain. The traffic was bad and every driver seemed to be particularly nervous. However, for one man, this morning was one of the happiest of his life. Chuck Bartowski was on his way to work and nothing, neither the bad weather nor the insults that fellow drivers were throwing at him, seemed to affect his mood. After all, how could one person not help but feel tremendously happy when your loved one had finally accepted your proposal?

Well, if he was honest it had not really gone that way. When she thought he had not been listening, Sarah told him that if he had proposed to her, she would have said yes. But just knowing that she loved him and that one day they might be able to start a family together was more than enough for him to be in seventh heaven.

On autopilot and seemingly lost in his thoughts, Chuck barely noticed that he had arrived at the Buy More. He found a parking spot and got out of the car, walking slowly towards the entrance. The world appeared to him as unreal as he felt a little dazed still from the revelation of earlier.

He ignored the creepy duo that was Jeff and Lester and continued right on by. Although, to be fair, that was probably what he would have done even if it had been a more normal day. He didn't pay much attention anymore to the strange contrast between the "veteran" employees of the store and the new ones; a contrast that usually amused and preoccupied him at the same time. After all, what if anyone noticed the exaggerated perfection of some of the workers?

He surely would have spent all morning in this ecstatic state, if something strange hadn't struck him- Morgan was behaving exactly like him.

Driven by curiosity, Chuck approached Morgan and said, "Hi buddy!"

"Oh, hi Chuck!" replied his friend absentmindedly.

"So, what's the good news?"

"What?"Morgan, startled by this question, focused his attention on Chuck

"C'mon, you are particularly happy today. I can tell by the look on your face," Chuck said.

"Well, it's nothing important, you know. I'm just happy that the new Tron film will come out soon, and then we'll go to the cinema together and-"

"Morgan, how long have we known each other?" Chuck interrupted his best friend.

"What kind of question is that?" the bearded man asked incredulously, before he reluctantly answered the question. "Since fifth grade."

"That's right," Chuck replied smartly. "So, do you really believe that after all this time, I can't tell when you're lying to me?"

"All right, I'll tell you the truth."

Morgan grabbed Chuck by the arm and pushed him in his office. Chuck could see the tension on his best friend's face.

"What I'm about to tell you must remain between us. Promise me you won't tell anyone."

"O-Ok. You can trust me; you know I'm good at keeping secrets." Chuck replied, shocked by this sudden change of mood. After checking that no one was eavesdropping behind the door and the windows, Morgan finally gave up his secret.

"Yesterday I kissed Alex."He sighed with relief, finally happy to free himself of that weight.

"Wow, I'm really happy for you buddy. That's really terrific," said Chuck.

"I know! I think I've never been more excited in my life! She's the right one, I can feel it," exclaimed Morgan.

"I just don't understand why you are so secretive about this."

"Well, I'm not keen on making my private life public. I prefer it to remain, you know, private."

This time Chuck didn't even have to talk. All it took for Morgan to admit the truth was just a sarcastic glance.

"You know the scene where the Thuggee high priest rips a man's heart out of the chest while chanting 'Kalima, Kalima'?" Morgan asked. "From the scene in the second Indiana Jones. Come on man, you know what I'm trying to say, right?" he added when he caught the confused look from his friend.

"Well, apparently I don't," answered Chuck sarcastically. "Enlighten me."

"Well, I think that's exactly what Casey'll do to me if he ever finds out. Obviously minus the 'Kalima' thing."

"Whoa, don't you think you're overreacting a little bit?"

"No, I don't. It's Casey we're talking about! I risk my life every day just by having his daughter's phone number."

"Look, I think you should tell him. Casey might not be the brightest man in the world, but he's not stupid. He will eventually find out and believe me when I say that you don't want him to discover that you've been lying about someone he cares so much about,"

"I don't know. I'll think about it," Morgan replied. He started saying something else when suddenly the door opened and Casey made his entrance in the room. As soon as he was in, Morgan's lips closed and he pretended to be looking for something inside his desk in order to avoid eye contact with the man he feared the most.

"Bartowski. Castle. Now," said Casey when the man did not move right away. Then he left the room as quickly as he had entered.

"Good morning Casey. I'm fine, thanks for asking," Chuck muttered under his breath. Then he turned to his friend and saluted him. While he was heading to the entrance of the castle, he thought he had been lucky to have this conversation with Morgan. He was not sure whether his friend was going to follow his suggestion or not, but at least the quick exchange of words had helped to clear his mind. Though still present, Sarah's words about a wedding were not the center of his attention anymore.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

As he was entering Castle, Chuck wondered if the information promised by Goya had finally arrived, since he knew Casey would not have called unless it was important. That was probably it. For once, he wouldn't have to travel. He didn't dislike travelling itself, quite the contrary: visiting the world has always been one of his dreams. He just would have preferred to do it while not being shot at by dangerous criminals. No, this time he would just have to sit down and go through some files. It looked like almost a vacation, compared to his average day. And yet he was not taking his job lightly, since lately it had meant learning more about Volkoff Industries. Every piece of information could be useful not only to stop them, but might help to find his mother, and he would not stop until he found her.

Suddenly, Chuck saw her. She was sitting near the table talking to Casey and for a second, he lost his grip on reality again. He just stood there, looking at her, admiring her. Then he shook his head and forced himself to move. It wasn't the right time to become unfocused.

"Hi, Sarah!"

"Hi, Chuck."

They kissed sweetly, bringing their lips together with an easy familiarity . It was their way to say good morning to the person they loved. As soon as their lips touched, Casey grunted. Chuck recognized it as the "I pretend to be disgusted by the showing of your love, but deep inside I approve your relationship" grunt.

"Hello, Casey," he said brightly, after he reluctantly drew away from Sarah

"Bartowski"

"So, do you mind telling me what this is all about?" Chuck asked. He took a chair and sat down near the big, metallic table in the middle of the room.

"I think I'm more qualified to answer that question, Agent Bartowski" a female voice said, and General Beckman's head appeared on the screen.

"By the way, I have a piece of advice for you, Bartowski. Next time turn your cell phone on, so that Colonel Casey won't have to pick you up personally," added the general, in a slightly irritated tone

Chuck's face looked troubled. What the hell she was talking about? He quickly made a grab for his IPhone and noticed it was off, probably low batteries. He must have forgotten to charge it earlier in the morning; he had had other things on his mind. Chuck cursed himself. That was a rookie mistake.

"I'm sorry general. It won't happen again," Chuck apologized.

"You better make sure of that," said Beckmann.

"Anyway," Chuck changed the subject quickly, "you were going to say something about our next mission."

"Yes. Your new mission involves this man, Dr. Samuel Adams."

The image of man who looked to be about thirty appeared on the screen. Instantly, Chuck's gaze became empty, while the Intersect suddenly began transmitting information to his brain. Sarah almost immediately noticed the transformation on her boyfriend's face, and watched until the blank expression disappeared.

"Did you flash on anything?" she asked curiosly.

"Yeah. Samuel Adams. Born in Oklahoma City in 1960. He took masters in basically anything you can think of. Physics, Chemistry, Math, Psychiatry… The list is very long," answered Chuck, turning his chair around so that he was facing her.

"So he's a scientist," said Sarah.

"Yes. A really important one," replied Chuck.

"Never heard his name before," said Casey.

"That's because most of his research was highly classified. From 1980 to 1990 he worked for the Central Intelligence Agency, and he was involved in more than thirty different projects." Chuck explained

"Why did he stop collaborating with the agency?" asked Sarah.

"Well, in 1990 he just disappeared. From that moment on, nothing. No cell phone records, not even a single Christmas card to his family. It was like he had vanished into thin air. His disappearance has remained unsolved," answered Chuck.

"Well, Agent Bartowski, that was true since a couple of weeks ago. We have recently discovered that not only is Adams still alive today, but that during the last twenty years he has been in constant contact with the Ring," said Beckman

Silence fell inside the castle. Everyone there seemed to be startled by this information. The Ring? Again?

"I thought we got rid of the Ring when we arrested the Elders," said Casey.

"That is correct," replied Beckman.

"Still, some of the Ring agents are yet to be captured. Adams is one of them: for what we know, a matter of hours after the Ring threat was eliminated he escaped from the facility where he was stationed. While doing so he took all of his researches with him," she added.

"What was his research about?" asked Chuck.

"He was developing a new kind of Intersect."

Chuck's mouth opened in disbelief. A Ring operative was creating an Intersect? That couldn't be true. He was probably still sleeping and having a horribly bad nightmare.

"You mean a new version of the Intersect? An Intersect 3.0?" asked Sarah.

"No," Beckman said. "He was trying to find a new way to transmit the encrypted information, by using subliminal sounds."

"How did they come up with such idea? This is nothing like reverse-engineering an existing piece of technology; it's creating a completely new one. As far as the Intersect is concerned, the only man who was able to achieve this was my father," replied Chuck

"And he still is. This new technology is based on one of Orion's project," said Beckman.

"What?" asked a shocked Chuck

"Your father originally presented two different projects for the Intersect, although only the one in your head was given green light. This was simply because at that time it was considered safer. We believe that the Ring has somehow obtained a copy of the rejected idea."

"I'm assuming that we have to capture this man and retrieve the Intersect. Do we know his current whereabouts? Do we know what his invention looks like?" asked Casey, straight to the point as always.

A photo of an older Adams appeared on the screen. "This was taken from a traffic camera in New York two days ago. He lives there under the alias of John Menrik, an Informatics teacher," answered Beckmann

"Well, he certainly doesn't lack the experience for this job," Chuck said sarcastically.

"Unfortunately," Beckman went on, ignoring Chuck's interruption, "the Intersect's appearance remains a mystery. Our Intel suggests us that it can be integrated into any flash drive to automatically encrypt subliminal sounds in every audio file uploaded. Your best chance to find it is to convince the doctor to tell you its location."

"Won't be a problem," said Casey, who had a small smirk on his face. A frightening smirk, as it appeared to Chuck.

"Good. Your flight takes off in two hours. Good luck," replied the general and then the screen turned black.

Chuck then told Casey that he and Sarah were going home to see if they could find something in his father's files, but that wasn't the truth. He had already gone through them dozens of times before and there was nothing about this Intersect. He was sure of it. The truth was that he needed some time to think. He couldn't believe what he had heard; however, what really made him angry wasn't the fact that his father had never mentioned the project, but hat even after his death his inventions were being used for purposes that were far from noble.

When they arrived home, they sat on the couch. Sarah said nothing; she just stayed there, holding his hand. Chuck felt her love and support for him, and his sadness abated slightly. He was grateful for her presence. He kissed her and told her he was fine, so she stood up and went packing a suitcase. He decided to wait for her outside, in the courtyard.

While he sat on the fountain ledge, he couldn't help wonder what Adams was going to do with the Intersect; he probably was going to sell it to the best buyer. Chuck was scared of what would happen if such technology should fall into the wrong hands. The thing was basically untraceable, as no-one would ever check inside a regular little flash drive, and it could be easily transported all over the world. No wonder the Ring was founding this research. It had immense potential. Chuck was interrupted from his musings by the arrival of his sister, Elle.

"Hi, Chuck!"

"Hi, sis! What are you doing here?"

"I really need your help. Please, I'm desperate," she said.

"Ok, sure. Whatever you need," replied Chuck, a little bit worried about his sister.

"Devon wants to buy more diapers! He won't listen to anyone. Please you have to convince him not to; our house is already full of them!"

Chuck smiled

"He's still overexcited about the baby, isn't he? " Chuck questioned with a smile on his face. "I'm afraid you'll have to handle this one by yourself. I'm leaving" he added when he caught her confused expression.

"Where are you going?"

"New York. I might have found a new lead on our mom," he lied. Telling lies to his sister was painful, but he couldn't tell her the truth either.

"I'm not sure how I feel about this," Elle said.

"I've already explained to you why I'm searching for mom. Besides, look at the bright side. While in New York, maybe I could get a signed book from that author you like. What was his name?" Chuck asked with a teasing tone, then when she opened mouth to reply he continued. "Ah yes, Castle."

Elle's passion for Castle last one Christmas, when as a joke, he had gotten her one of Castle's books. Her hatred of thriller authors and novels was notorious, and she had made such a disappointed face that everyone laughed. After receiving her brother's true gift, which was a beautiful red dress that suited her just perfectly, she started reading the first lines of the book out of curiosity. In less the twenty hours, she finished it. Since then, Chuck knew that she hadn't missed a single one of Castle's publications. He saw that she even checked the man's book tour schedule to see if would be in their area, but she had been disappointed when she found out it was only an East coast tour.

"You know, that's not a bad idea. Would you really do it?" asked Elle.

"You can count on me," he replied.

They hugged each other and Elle wished Chuck good luck; then she left for her apartment right before Sarah came out in the courtyard.

"Are you ready to go?" she asked.

"Yes," Chuck answered.

As they were heading to the airport, Chuck thought again about that novelist, Castle. Although he wouldn't change it for anything, sometimes Chuck wished his life was more like the writer's – a life without the constant preoccupation of catching bad guys.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

New York City, New York

The one thing the estate agents would never tell you was that houses are incredibly silent, particularly in the early morning hours. Silence was a sound she hated. She was an actress - she had spent all of her life working and partying with dozens of people around, always immersed in a continuous, wonderful buzz. That was why she hated silence because in her mind it equaled solitude and, although she would never admit it, being alone really scared her. For this reason Martha was grateful for the constant clicking noise made by her son as he typed away on his laptop, writing his next bestseller.

Martha shot a quick glance at her watch and saw it was time to go. She rose gracefully from the couch she was sitting on and headed for the front door.

"Are you going out mother?" her son asked

"Yes, darling. I am. The audition starts in less than one hour. I should be crazy to let this opportunity pass, don't you think?" Martha replied breezily. She waited for Richard's response, but he continued taping on the keyboard instead.

"You know, I'm quite sure that is a common habit to answer when you are asked a question," she added in a humorous tone.

"Oh! I'm sorry. It's just that I didn't want to lose my flow. I've been having lots of ideas this morning, and they are so great that, when I look at them again, I…" He stared at the screen for a couple of seconds, and then he pushed the delete button. "Realize that I must have lost my mind and, with that, all of my writing skills. These pages are more appropriate for a first grader than for a great writer such me. "

"Oh, we are going through a little writing crisis, aren't we?"

"I wouldn't go as far as call it a crisis, but…."He trailed off and looked morosely at the blinking cursor on the screen. "I don't know, I guess I only have to distract myself. If only there was a good case to work on," Richard said slightly sadly. He thought about his "job" as a police consultant, which had become an important part of his life. It wasn't just about finding inspiration for a novel; it was more about finding the villains and putting them behind cell bars. For the fist time in his life, Castle felt that he was actually doing something good, something important. That was why he always looked forward to investigating another case. Even if someone didn't acknowledge his role in bringing the killer of a relative to justice, or returning them their kidnapped children, the expression on the face of the people he had helped was more than enough to make him feel like his life finally had a purpose. Nevertheless, being thanked for his actions was also really much appreciated. He was a little bit narcissists, and he didn't mind appearing as the hero, the knight in the shiny armor ready to save someone in distress.

"Don't worry Richard. I'm sure that any moment now your phone will ring, and Beckett will present you the most interesting case ever," Martha reassured him.

"Nah, unfortunately they are not as common as you'd think. In fact -" Richard started, when suddenly his cell phone went off loudly. He looked at his mother incredulously, then at the ringing cell in his hand before commenting wryly, "Sometimes you scare me".

"Don't be silly. It was just a lucky guess. And besides, don't they say that females have some kind of sixth sense?" she replied to which he just grinned and shook his head.

Her son answered his phone with a bright, "Castle."

Martha took her coat from the hanger. "I'll see you later, darling," she called out, but her son was too busy to notice. While that probably would have made another person angry, she just felt happy for her Richard. She left the house with a smile on her face.

"OK, see you soon," said Castle before ending the call. Quickly he went to grab the car keys, and only then he noticed that his mother had already left. He mentally wished her good luck.

After getting everything he needed, and leaving a note for his daughter, Alexis, that he might be home late, Castle went out into the street and sighed. The weather was not exceptional, but at least it was not raining anymore. The street was still wet, though. Walking slowly to prevent any embarrassing falls, he reached his car and started the engine.

The weather was relatively good, and he had another murder case - it was definitely his lucky day. He grinned and hoped that maybe he would not find any traffic. He drove ahead a little more, and then turned on the first left. This new street was so full of cars that even an ant would have problems moving between them. This, however, didn't diminish the grin on his face. He should have known better than hoping for an empty street, because he was well aware that is just how New York by morning is. _You gotta love it!_

About an hour later, Castle finally arrived at the crime scene. The building was a squalid and old flat, the kind you would never notice unless you had been looking for it; yet this one had suddenly become of great interest to many people. The first thing that struck the novelist was that the rooms were a total mess: The drawers and the wardrobe were all wide open and their contents had been thrown haphazardly on the floor while the sofa and all of the pillows had been slashed open. Even an amateur could recognize that the place had been ransacked.

Castle spotted his favorite detective friend and, in some sort of way, colleague. "Beckett."

"Castle," she greeted curtly, eyes glued to the victim.

The writer turned his attention to the body that was lying on the floor. It was a man who looked to be in his fifty or so, somehow still good-looking. If, of course, you could get over the big, bloody hole in his left temple. He was lying on the floor next to a table, on which there were the remains of a dinner. Castle recognized them as Chinese food.

"Apparently everyone condemned to death gets his last meal," Richard Castle said jokingly, before becoming a bit more serious. "What happened to this guy?"

"What does it look like? Most likely cause of death was a GSW to his left temple and it looks like the bullet exited under the right cheek bone, right here," answered Dr Perish, the medical examiner, pointing at the victim's face."It is possible that the exit wound is just a fragment, though. There are probably more fragments in the skull, but we can't be sure until I get him to the morgue.

"Ballistics?" asked Beckett, glancing at the woman.

"Well, until the ballistic guys get their test done, it's hard to tell. From the lack of powder burns around the wounds I would tell that it was a long distance shot. Definitely not point blank."

"So, we're dealing with a sniper, ah?" Castle said, spotting a broken window.

"I've always admired you're ability to jump to conclusion. It's a possibility, anyway," she replied blithely, before changing subject."No coffee today?"

"No. You don't like coffee, so unless I can buy it for you," said playfully Castle, while moving towards the broken window, "I don't see why I should do it for anyone else. Besides, I didn't have enough time this morning."

The window in question was to the left of the body. It was shattered, and there were pieces of glass all over the floor. He guessed that it had been caused by the bullet, which meant that the killer must have shot from the building across the street. They would not be able to find out the exact position where the shooter had been until the forensic techs analyzed the glass and the blood splatter.

"Were you able to determine the time of death, Lanie?"Detective Beckett questioned

"Well, I've just given a superficial look, and, like I said, until I get him to the morgue I can just assume. From the degree of rigidity I would guess that he was killed twelve to sixteen hours ago, so sometime between 9 P.M and 1 A.M," the doctor replied, while trying to move the victim's arms, which were stiff from rigor mortis.

Beckett nodded, and then she turned her head and saw that Castle seemed to be absorbed into his own thoughts. "Anything you want to share with the class, Castle? Or maybe you want to ask me something?"

"I was just thinking," he started. "We're dealing with a pro here. The other building is rather distant, and it rained heavily all night yesterday. Even if he wasn't on the roof, but in one of the apartments, his visibility must have been almost zero. I don't think this is a shot that just anybody could have pulled off. Whoever the shooter was, he must be a well trained one. "

Beckett stared at him for a couple of seconds, looking like she was waiting for something, and then she said with a surprised tone in her voice, "You are really not going to ask me anything, are you?"

"Should I?" replied Castle, his confusion evident in his bunched eyebrow and frown

"I don't recognize you anymore, Castle! You haven't asked me a thing about who this man was or how we found him. I shouldn't be surprised, though; you are getting older, and it's only natural to forget fundamental things," she said with a smile on her face.

"I might be aging, but at least I'm still ruggedly handsome."Castle returned the smile, but then lost it and looked worried as he asked while trying to see his reflection on the fragments of glass on the floor. "Aren't I?"

"Jokes apart," he added hastily, when Beckett did not seemed amused, "I was going to ask about just those topics in a minute."

"Like I'm really going to buy that. Anyway, as for the identity of the victim, we haven't been able to determine it yet," Beckett replied

"You haven't found any ID, right?"

"No, exactly the opposite: we've found too many," she answered, sounding frustrated. "There are at least ten different IDs in the house. We do know what pseudonymous he was using to work, though. We found a school ID in his briefcase and the school confirms that he was working for them". She handed the novelist a plastic ID, which Castle promptly read. His eyes widened when he noticed the school's name.

"Hold on a second. This is Alexis' school!" he exclaimed

Beckett met his gaze, surprise and slight skepticism flitting across her face. "Are you sure Castle?"

"I think I would recognize my daughter's school," the novelist replied sarcastically and then pointed at the man's photo on the ID. "This guy, Mr. Menrik? He was Alexis' computer science teacher. What kind of people does the school employ? Haven't they ever heard about something called background check?"

"You don't know the worst part yet. The victim was discovered by one of his co-worker, whom the school had asked to check on Menrik. This man, Albert Green," said Beckett, looking at a sheet of paper, probably a deposition, "arrived here around eleven, rang the bell a couple of time and, after receiving no answer, he noticed that the door was open. He entered; he found the corpse and called the police."

"Why would the school send someone to check on one of his employee?

"Well, usually they wouldn't have bothered, but this was a particular occasion. Menrik was supposed to face the school board today, and he was probably going to lose his job. Since he hadn't shown up at school this morning and he wasn't answering his phone, they wanted to make sure he hadn't decided to run away. That's way they sent Mr. Green."

"What were they firing him for?"

"Theft and sexual harassment," Beckett answered, frowning. Castle's face lost some of its color.

* * *

General Beckman was sitting behind her desk, reading a report, when the phone rang.

"General, Colonel Casey is on line two. Shall I tell him to phone again later?" Linda, her new secretary, asked

"No thanks, I'll take the call." Beckmann pressed the number two button on her speakerphone and spoke loudly." Hello Colonel. To what do I owe you the pleasure?"

"We arrived in New York on time, General, and we've found the suspect's home. However, there may be a minor problem,"Casey answered, his gruff voice telling her that the man was annoyed with something.

"Which is?"

"Apparently Adams has been killed. His house is full of NYPD officers," Casey replied. "What should we do? I don't think that making contact with the local authorities is an option."

"Of course not, the whole operation is classified. Nevertheless, you still have to retrieve the Intersect." She paused, thinking. "Since there's not much else you can do at this point in time, I suggest keeping a discrete eye on the investigation. Worst case scenario, if the Intersect has been taken, they might lead us straight to the killer."

"Understood. Goodbye General."Casey snapped the phone shut and turned to one of the many screen inside the black surveillance SUV. Chuck and Sarah were staring at him, waiting for something.

"What are we going to do?" Chuck finally asked

"What we can do best, Bartowksi," answered Casey cryptically. "We spy,"


End file.
